The Eve of All-Hallows; Or, Adelaide of Tyrconnel, v. 1 of 3

But what Adelaide saw upon that awful night ever remained untold.—She could never be prevailed upon to divulge the tremendous and frightful circumstances of that eventful night. The next morning, as it afterwards appeared, she complained of being very unwell, and kept her bed for some days. The blame was very discreetly thrown upon her having eaten too many nuts—having danced too much; and, moreover, supper having disagreed with her; besides a variety of et cetera explanations. It was a long period before Adelaide resumed her usual serenity and gaiety of temper; and whenever her friends or acquaintance would interrogate her upon the adventures of that memorable night, she would assume much reserve, and seemed displeased: this the only occasion, it was by all remarked, that she had ever been observed to have appeared displeased since they first had the happiness to be acquainted with her.

The unwarrantable practice of inquiring into futurity prevailed very generally at and before the period which we write of; and most strange to say, at times the sacred volume of the Scriptures,[21] and at others the poems of Virgil and Homer, were consulted for oracular purposes. The sortes Prenestinæ, sortes Homerianæ, and sortes Virgilianæ, which were modes of inquiring into the secrets of futurity, are well known to the classic reader. A remarkable instance of the trial of this latter sortilege occurred to King Charles I. when at the city of Oxford, during the civil wars. Going one day to inspect the Boedlian Library, His Majesty was shown, along with other volumes, an early copy of Virgil, beautifully printed and exquisitely bound. Lord Falkland, to amuse the King, insisted upon His Majesty's trying his fortune by the sortes Virgilianæ; whereupon the King, opening the volume, hit upon the fourth Æneid, line 615, which much disconcerted him.

The passage is prophetic of the fortunes of Æneas, and, mutato nomine, it was applicable to the royal martyr.[22]

Lord Falkland, upon observing that the King was discomposed, resolved to try his own fortune in the same manner, hoping that perchance he might alight on some sentence that would bear no relation to his own, and thereby turn aside the thoughts of the King from any impression the lines might have occasioned. However, the subject of the passage upon which he unluckily stumbled was fully as unpropitious and as applicable as that upon which his sovereign had alighted. It was the lamentation of Evander for the untimely death of his son, in the 11th Æneid. It is well known that the eldest son of this nobleman, a young man of amiable character, had been previously slain in the first battle of Newburg.

It is recorded of the famous and excellent sculptor Giovanni Lorenzi Bernini, that upon his beholding a painting by Vandyke, which presents three portraits of King Charles I. on the same canvass—the one a front face, the other a half side, and the third a profile—the artist observed: "whoever the individual be whose likeness these three portraits represent, I am of opinion that the same will come to an untimely end."

This painting had been expressly taken and forwarded to Rome, in order that Bernini might, from the resemblance, sculpture a marble bust of the King, which accordingly he did; and King Charles, the greatest and best patron of the fine arts that England can boast of, was so much pleased with the performance, that he sent Bernini a ring of very great value; and said to the person who was deputed to bring it: "Andate a coronar quello mano, che ha fatto si bel lavorno." [23]

All attempts to inquire into and penetrate the secrets of futurity are highly to be condemned, as they are nothing less than tempting the Almighty; it is not for frail man to anticipate the ways of Providence, and discover these events that heaven always in its wisdom, and often in its mercy, withholds from mortal eyes. But it is indeed full time to close (as we apprehend we have trespassed too long on our reader's forbearance)

CHAPTER IX.

The celebration of the birth-day of the Lady Adelaide passed over as we have described in the preceding chapter, and our lovely heroine was now quite recovered from whatever cause it might have been which had so disturbed and agitated her upon that eventful and recorded night. The Duke and Duchess, according to their previous determination, towards the close of November set off with their suite on their route for Dublin Castle; for the time was now fast approaching when in great pomp and state the Viceroy-Duke was to open the sessions of the Irish parliament.

Their Graces travelled by short stages on account of the abridgment of the days, and arrived in about four days in perfect health and safety at the vice-royal palace; no incident, occurrence, or even pleasantry, happening, that could possibly amuse the story-loving reader, or important enough to be handed down to posterity in savoury remembrance.

At this epoch of the Irish history the parliament met only once in two years; and a member of the lower house, the House of Commons, then held his seat for life, or at least certainly during the period of the life of the reigning sovereign, upon whose demise alone a new parliament was to be called. What then had a member thus chosen under these circumstances to apprehend or fear from the resentment of his constituents? Nothing!—certainly nothing! The member was virtually placed beyond their control, beyond their remonstrance, and above their resentment; while his hopes and expectations of reward from a minister for services done, or to be performed, were reasonably great, and held forth attractive bait to corruption. The representative would, or might, oppose the measures of a good minister, in order that his services might be brought into action, and duly paid for upon the performance thereof; and it would be equally his interest, upon the same corrupt data, to sell himself to a bad and profligate minister for prompt payment! But both these alternatives were fraught with evils to the constituents; and against these evils they had, they could have, no control! The minister too could indeed well afford to bid high and imposing terms, when the purchase was for life. Thus, although a small portion of virtue might resist a small portion of temptation, nevertheless that resistance would become weaker as time advanced, in an increased ratio; and, moreover, as a long duration and manifold opportunities were given for the temptation and the tempter, which could not, by possibility, be the case if parliaments, instead of being for the life of the sovereign, [24] and meeting only once in every two years, were to have met annually, and the conduct of the representative were placed under the eye and the control of their constituents. And assuredly it must strike the good sense of the reader that the prolongation of the term of parliament weakens the security of the people, for whose benefit parliaments were constituted; and that nothing can make it safe to repose so great a trust in any body of men, as the constitutive body delegates to its representative, but the shortness of the term for which such delegation is made.

It appears, from consulting the page of history, that England was one of the first countries in which the representatives of boroughs were admitted into the great council of the nation; for until the year A. D. 1265, it was a privilege unknown and unclaimed.

The cause of calling the burgesses to the great council, or parliament of the nation, (according to Dr. Robertson, in his "View of the State of Europe,") was "in order to add greater popularity to the party of the barons that had armed against Henry the Third, and to strengthen the barrier against the encroachments of regal power."

But, alas! how fatally has the converse of the intention of our wise progenitors been established! From lapse of time, ministerial influence, the pecuniary embarrassments of the nobles and proprietors of boroughs, and the all powerful lever of corruption, the boroughs have changed masters. Those boroughs that were erected as mounds and ramparts against the powerful influence of the crown, have many of them been purchased by the crown, and now powerfully preponderating to the opposite scale, have increased, in a formidable degree, the royal influence and prerogative which they were created to check; and have but too effectually magnified the evils which they were formed to repress!

The day for the assembling of parliament had now arrived, and the Viceroy-Duke proceeded in great pomp and state to the House of Lords to open the session. The cap of maintenance was borne by Lord Mount-Leinster, and the sword of state by the Lord Glandarah. His Grace was seated in the superb antique state-coach, which was lined with crimson velvet, and trimmed with gold lace; the exterior was richly and magnificently adorned; the pannels had been painted by a celebrated Venetian artist, and the subjects were chosen from the heathen mythology. The state-carriage was drawn by eight beautiful black horses, with long flowing tails, and right nobly caparisoned; they were a present from His gracious Majesty James the Second. The harness and all the accessoirés were in unison in their magnificence. Six state-carriages and four preceded that which bore the Duke of Tyrconnel; and the state-carriage was surrounded by the battle-axe guards. The streets were lined with soldiery, and no demonstration of respect was wanting as the noble Duke proceeded to the House of Peers. We need not tell that his Grace wore the robes of the order of the garter, nor dwell upon the brilliancy of the diamond star which glittered upon his breast, nor upon his fine appearance; for the Duke was justly accounted by far the handsomest man of the age in which he flourished. With great and unaffected dignity he entered the House of Peers, the trumpets, &c. all pealing forth the now national anthem of "God save the King," which no former monarch or viceroy had ever received, as it was composed expressly for James II. Meanwhile the long and continued peal of cannon told to all that the noble viceroy was seated upon the throne.[25] We mean not to harass our kind reader to actual death by giving him, in totidem verbis, the speech of his Grace, but we will however venture to record, for historical remembrance, the mode entré:—The Duke of Tyrconnel enters the House of Peers, the Earl of Mount-Leinster bearing the cap of maintenance; the Lord Glandarah carrying the sword of state; the train being supported by Sir Richard Talbot. His Grace made his congés to the cloth of state; then taketh his seat on the throne under the canopy, the Secretary of State standing at his right hand. The Lord Chancellor then proceeds to his stall on the Lord Lieutenant's right hand, and acquaints the Lords that it is the Lord Lieutenant's pleasure that their Lordships should be covered. Next, the Lord Chancellor, kneeling, receiveth a direction from the Lord Lieutenant; and thereupon standing up again wills the Gentleman-Usher of the black-rod to acquaint the House of Commons that it is the Lord Lieutenant's pleasure that they should attend his Grace. When the speech contained the following items:—'Thanks to the House of Peers for their loyal devotion so often manifested for the honour of the crown, and so forth; their unshaken loyalty, &c. to the king's person and government. Thanks followed to the House of Commons for the necessary provisions for the services of the ensuing year so cheerfully made, &c. Then followed a general appeal to both houses, entreating them that when they returned to their respective counties to use their utmost endeavours to inculcate and bring to bear the same loyalty and affection by them so often and efficiently demonstrated.' The Duke concluded his speech in these emphatic terms:—"And I cannot conclude, my lords and gentlemen, without the hope that you will permit no apprehensions of grievances or causeless jealousies to interrupt that tranquillity and social order, and obedience to the laws, which constitute the fountain of all political happiness—the source and the support of industry, agriculture, commerce, and all national amelioration, which has been ever the unvaried pursuit of the best of kings. And I shall not fail to represent to my royal master your dutiful devotion; and the only reward which I look to, is your free and unbiassed approbation!"

His Grace upon quitting the throne was dutifully received by the house uncovering, and rising from their seats. An address was then moved as an echo of the speech, by the Earl of Clanrickarde, and was seconded by the Viscount Kilmallock; which passed the noble house, nemine contradicente. In the lower house the address was moved by Mr. Murtagh Magennis of Balligorionbeg, and seconded by Mr. James Lally of Tallendaly, and passed the house unanimously.

Leave was granted for an act to be brought into the house, entitled, "The Tithe Agistment Bill," which was read next day the first time, and after a few days a second time; and a day was appointed for the third reading. When that day had arrived Lord Glandarah, who was in the robing-room, observed a strong muster of bishops; and upon entering the house he whispered a friend—"I clearly perceive, Gad save my soul! that we shall have a very angry political debate to-day, for I left my lords the bishops duly caparisoning them-selves in their celestial armour!"

Some altercation took place in the robing-chamber between Lord Mount-Leinster and Bishop Rocket, between whom there existed a private pique.

"I see, my Lord Bishop, that charity covers a multitude of——Hem! I mean, my Lord, that I verily saw your Lordship giving alms to the amount of——one shilling just now as I arrived in the house!"

"Yes, my Lord Mount-Leinster, I deny it not: and I perceived that your Lordship followed on the instant so excellent an example; for, from the cogency of the case, you too were forced to pay twice the sum! Ha, ha, ha!—two shillings into the poor's box."

All which being translated, (no offence to Bishop Rocket,) signifies that the Bishop and the Earl were both late in their arrival in the House of Peers, and they had accordingly to pay the penalty for arriving in the house "beyond a quarter of an hour after prayers had been read"—secundum regulam.[26]

The clerk read aloud at the table, "Hodie, tertia vice lecta est billa." This act was "the Tithe Agistment Bill," entitled, "An act to quiet and bar all claims of tithe agistment for dry and barren cattle."

When an angry debate ensued, Bishop Rocket arose with much warmth, and contended "that it was an act tending most forcibly to wrest the rights and privileges of the Church, to the great detriment of the hierarchy, and the all unalienable properties and immunities of their lawful successors; and forcibly militating against the welfare, property, and prosperity, of the Church and State, as then by the laws of the land established and in force."

Lord Mount-Leinster arose: "My Lords, this is a bill which I would call as one of the most pacificatory nature, and tending to repress the grievous mode in which tithes are generally collected from the population of this country, who have, if they are of the Catholic persuasion, to pay two pastors; and I will moreover, my Lords, be bold to say, that no school-boy, studying his as in presenti, could be so stupidly credulous as to give credence to the monstrous assertion of the Right Reverend Lord, or for a moment believe that posthumous piety to his successors can or could be the predominating cause of the vote given this night by the Right Reverend Prelate."—[Hear, hear, hear.]

With the most violent indignation Bishop Rocket arose: "Lord Mount-Leinster, but for these black rags," shaking indignantly his sacerdotal robes; "look ye, but for these black rags, I would fight you!"—[Here numerous cries were heard of "Order, order, order"—"Chair, chair, chair!"]

Sir Patricius Placebo and Mr. Berenger were stationed at the bar of the house, and the risible muscles of the Baronet were incontinently put into play, which had been certes audible, but for the noise and uproar in the house. Laughingly, he whispered Mr. Berenger, "Room, room, my Lords and Nobles all; I cry make room for the incensed worthies!

DOSS MOI, TANE STIGMEN!"

He then laughed immoderately, and took snuff at a surprising rate from his King Carolus' snuff-box. "Yes, yes, Mr. Berenger," he added, "ha, ha,

For, Sir, you know,

'Πάντες οἱ μωροὶ μαίνονται.'[27]

That is at least according to the doctrine of the stoics."

The gallant, gay Mr. Berenger so politely smiled ever and anon, that it nearly amounted to a laugh. But this had been interdicted at the court where he too often had

However the question, upon being put, was resolved in the negative, by the motion that the bill should be read that day six months! The Chancellor could make no peace between the enraged combatants, who adjourned to the robing-room, when this scene of altercation took place:—

Lord Mount-Leinster, addressing Bishop Rocket, emphatically said: "My Lord Bishop, you are now unharnessing yourself from that celestial panoply or armour in which you flourished in the House of Peers, and which, I must observe, you somewhat unseemingly, if not indecorously, called your "black rags,"

I have ever been, my Lord—mark me—a gallant swordsman; nor would I brook an affront from a king. Let not then your sacerdotal robes, or, as you were pleased in mirth to call them, your "black rags," let them not, I say, prove your peace-makers in this gross breach of decorum. I must observe, that, according to the spirit and strict laws of the Duello, or single combat, the ceremonies thereunto affixed and appertaining, connected and deducible from chivalry, are duly and implicitly laid down by the celebrated Caranza,[28] the oracle of duelling, and the no less sage and famous Master Selden, in his very learned and unimpeachable treatise upon the laws of the Duello; and in good sooth my very grave and reverend Lord Coke has it as a punctum in his Institutes, 'that in these matters, where the person possessing a right, or sustaining a grievance, could not act, on account of professional or personal disability, or perform the service required in person, he was then to name a sufficient person for his deputy!' Now, my Lord Bishop, I must needs observe, that I think that this was truly a marvellous right praiseworthy custom, that when any grave and reverend personage, willing to give satisfaction, as you profess, finds himself impeded by his reverend skirts tripping up the laws of the Duello, from being, for sad ensample, a son or dignitary of the Church, and so forth, that upon such occasions their next and nearest of kin should take up the gauntlet: and such a proxy, my Lord Bishop, I now claim from you to enter the lists with me, as becomes your true knight and representative!"

Bishop Rocket.—"Know then, Lord Mount-Leinster, that I shall send my sedan chairmen to fight you!!"

"A precious boon, and peerless proxies, I needs must say, my Lord Bishop, thou hast chosen!!! In sooth I oft have heard of knights of the lance and eke of the bucket,[29] but never until now heard of knights of the pole! But although, from your Lordship's reply, it appears that your next and nearest of kin happen to be your sedan-chairmen!! my own dignity prevents me having any further parley with you, much less contact with your kindred!" And then Lord Mount-Leinster, wheeling around, made his exit from the robing-room, flinging a rapid and most contemptuous look at the discomfitted bishop.

All peers and prelates, much diverted at the result, now withdrew. Solventur risu curiæ. The enemies of Bishop Rocket (who had certainly sprung from a low origin) insisted that his two sedan chairmen were his own proper kinsmen, and, moreover, bore his name. His friends did not deny the charge; but said, in extenuation, that "after all this was no wondrous thing, as the Marèschal de Richelieu, when at Vienna, had purchased baronies for his two portèurs de chaise; and when some ladies of fashion boasted that they had in their kitchen several French Marquises, 'I believe it,' replied the Marèschal, 'for my sedan chair is supported by a brace of German barons!'"

The eulogists of Lord Mount-Leinster loudly lauded him for the chivalrous spirit which he had manifested in this rencontre with the Church, which they considered and maintained as in no wise inferior to the adventure of the redoubted knight de la Mancha, when he encountered the windmill, and whose valour it was confessed was only to be paralleled with his discretion!

CHAPTER X.

The various unpopular and arbitrary acts of King James the Second paralyzed those loyal effusions that burst forth when he ascended the royal throne of the Stuarts. The acquittal of the seven bishops who had been arbitrarily imprisoned in the tower still further increased the king's unpopularity. The confiscation too of property which followed, and the attainder of many loyal Protestants, soon swelled high the torrent that shortly was to burst against the abutments of his throne, and destroy that prerogative of power which he had so unjustly and so unconstitutionally assumed. Many now doubted the justness of the appellation of "James the Just," which had been awarded him shortly subsequent to his having been proclaimed king. Indeed his going publicly to mass two days consequent to his succession to the crown, at the time gave surprise and offence to the nation. Some events too occurred in those superstitious days, that in the present times would be slightly passed over, but which, albeit, were certainly considered as ill omens in that age. At the solemnity of the coronation, the crown not being properly fitted for the royal head, was often observed in a tottering condition, and likely to fall off. Mr. Henry Sidney supported it once with his hand, and pleasantly told the king,[30] that "this was not the first time that his family had supported the crown." "In one of the churches in London, the king's arms, stained on a glass window, suddenly fell down and broke in pieces, while the rest remained standing, without a possibility of discovery why that part should fall down sooner than the rest. The canopy also, which had been borne over his head at the coronation, did break." [31]

James II. espoused the Princess Maria d'Este, the sister of Francis Duke of Modena, who was as beautiful as she was unfortunate. The queen had been married some time without presenting her royal consort with a child. When this event did take place, malice, falsehood, envy, and intrigue, were not slow in pronouncing that the heir apparent thus born was a "suppositious Prince of Wales." Then followed the ridiculous episodes of the "sham conception," and "the warming-pan," which were all a tissue of forgery and falsehood, still further intended to diminish the king's decreasing popularity, and bring his person and throne into disrepute. But upon the whole mass and evidence of history that is presented, the only conclusion to be drawn was this, and only this—that the Prince of Wales, so far from being suppositious, was royally and legally born, the royal and lawful successor to his father's throne and realms.

In consequence of all these combining unpopular results, a resolution was taken by many of the disappointed, disaffected nobility and gentry, of calling in the Prince of Orange of Nassau to ascend the throne of Britain. And in pursuance of this determination several noblemen and gentlemen were secretly deputed to go over to the prince, and invite him to assume the sceptre of England. To these invitations the prince fully acceded, and firmly determined to head the party. It need not be told the reader that the Prince of Orange was the son-in-law of King James, having espoused his daughter, the Princess Mary. The intriguing party used all their endeavours to prevent the secret of their project from being divulged. In this matter the Earl of Sunderland basely betrayed his royal master. Meanwhile King James remained wholly incredulous to the belief of the existence of these political machinations; and although he was advised thereto by Mr. Skelton, his Majesty's Envoy at the Hague, "that a great project was secretly carrying on against him," yet was this incredulous sovereign so sure of success, that he quite neglected this intelligence, conceiving that it was only an artifice to divert him from his designs; and he, therefore, to all such reports closed an unwilling and unbelieving ear.

Numbers of the English nobility and gentry now addressed the Prince of Orange to deliver them from that oppression under which they bent. And in reply to a long memoiré presented to the prince, he published two manifestoes, declaratory of, and justifying his descent upon England, which were accompanied by his embarkation from the states of Holland, and shortly followed by his arrival in England, where by numbers his Highness was warmly received. Many personages of high rank declared to him their support; and furthermore, several regiments of the army of King James joined the standard of the Prince of Orange.

At length the landing of the prince, and the cordial reception with which he met withal, awoke the royal and too incredulous James from his trance, and he now finally resolved upon the measure of flying from his discontented subjects, whom he considered had betrayed him by thus calling in a foreigner to assume the sovereignty; and he forth-with determined to sail with what expedition he might from the shores of England, and put himself at once under the protection of the King of France.

However, previous to the flight of the unhappy James from his throne and realm of fair England, he resolved in the first instance to provide for the escape of his queen consort, and his son, the infant Prince of Wales. King James was so surrounded by spies and informers, that the very greatest circumspection was absolutely necessary to shun the hundred eyes of Argus which environed him; for, as but too often is the unhappy case with kings, that almost literally he knew not whom to trust. While flatterers and sycophants surround and blockade a throne, it must not be expected that truth, sincerity, or friendship, can there be found;—no! they are quite unknown within the stately precincts of a court! But still there was one found, and one worthy of the royal trust—the Count de Lauzun, a noble, brave, and generous Frenchman; and to this nobleman the king intrusted his queen and infant son, to assist them in conducting them in safety to France, aloof from all the enemies of the royal James.

The plan of proceeding, and all the consecutive details, were accordingly secretly arranged, and the greatest and most scrupulous care and caution were duly taken to keep these determinations a profound secret, lest the flight of the queen and infant prince being known or suspected, the measure might be wholly frustrated by the intervention of the emissaries of the Prince of Orange.

The solemn hour of midnight was selected as the safest time for the flight of the royal fugitives. The young prince, to escape suspicion, was placed in bed at his accustomed hour; and shortly after the king and queen, having duly dismissed all their attendants, retired seemingly to repose, but not to rest!

When the eyes of all in the palace were closed, save the waking, watching, unwearied eye-lids of the royal sufferers, the king and queen arose from their couch, and cautiously opened the private door leading to the royal closet, where in readiness awaited the noble and faithful Count de Lauzun. The queen raised the infant prince from his cradle, wrapped him in a swathe of flannel to keep the infant warm; indeed no unnecessary precaution, for cold and bitter was the winter weather in which the royal child was thus in silent secrecy of night taken away from the princely hall of his royal progenitors.

King James affectionately embraced them both, as sad and sorrowful he bade them a mournful farewell; and wept most bitterly at this parting scene, in which affliction his royal consort fully participated. His Majesty then intrusted them both to the loyal charge of the noble and faithful count, who taking the royal infant under one arm, while he assisted the queen with the other, they set forth from the palace to pursue their perilous and melancholy journey.

Stormy and tempestuous was the night, the wind blew with violence, and rain impetuously descended in torrents. They now approached the banks of the Thames, in order to procure a boat to cross over to Lambeth. At this point of time Count de Lauzun had previously engaged a boat to be ready in attendance, thence to escape down the river to Gravesend, to come up with the vessel which he had hired, and there awaited to convey them to France. But unluckily it happened that so pitchy dark and stormy was the night, the boat, when hailed, was not to be found. In total despair for some moments he remained; but again, more loud and stoutly once more he hailed the boat: the signal was heard, and obeyed. They descended down the Whitehall stairs and embarked; and finding a great swell in the river the count resolved not to proceed by water to Gravesend, but to land at Lambeth, and thence proceed by land. They arrived in safety at the Lambeth stairs, and landed, when the count surrendered to the queen the royal charge to hold, while he went forth to obtain a coach from the nearest adjoining inn.

Meanwhile the hapless queen—queen of the greatest realm in Europe, arrayed in disguised habiliments, stood trembling under the shelter of the ruined walls of a church, shivering in the blast, and dripping with rain, wistfully listening to every sound, and piteously raising her eyes to heaven. Oh, what a fearful lesson was here! a few days ago she might have proclaimed to all the world—"This is my throne, let kings come bow to it!" And this awful night she might envy the poorest cottier in her dominions. However, after long suspense, suffering, and delay, the count returned, having procured a carriage; and he lost no time in placing the trembling queen and shivering infant in the vehicle.

Without any accident whatever the royal fugitives reached Gravesend in perfect safety. Here, trembling with fear, and nearly overpowered by sorrow, the queen alighted on the quay, where the boat, (which was an open one,) belonging to the brig destined for Calais, awaited their coming. The count, without a moment's delay, placed the queen and prince in the boat, and flinging around them the boatman's cloak, he sat down by them, and bade him to row on. He told the boatman that the persons he bore away were his wife and child; and thus no suspicions were awakened in the mind of the boatman of the great personages he thus bore off amid the shades of night.

By the morning tide they had reached, without molestation, a small brig destined for France. To the captain the count also pretended that the queen and prince were his own wife and child; he bargained for the voyage, and the contract was agreed to. But the vessel was no sooner under weigh, when how great their surprise, and how proportionate must have been their apprehensions and alarm, while they beheld the whole of the English fleet stationed at the mouth of the Thames, to examine all vessels, and prevent their escape. But fortunately the vessel was so small that, being unsuspected, she was permitted with impunity to pass the admiral of the fleet, in no wise suspecting that her hull contained such very distinguished personages on board, so no examination took place. The vessel sailed on unmolested; and that very night the Count de Lauzun had the happiness of safely landing the royal sufferers on the pier of Calais. From thence they proceeded to Versailles, where her Majesty and infant prince were received by Louis the Fourteenth with great marks of affection and of the highest respect, which afforded some consolation to the queen under her melancholy reverse of fortune.

Meanwhile King James suffered great and intense anxiety concerning the fate of his unhappy queen and infant prince.

His Majesty now fully determined to follow the queen, and waited but one day to execute his design.[32] The following night, in a plain suit, and a bob-wig, he took water at Whitehall,[33] accompanied only by Sir Edward Hales, Mr. Sheldon, and Abbadie, a Frenchman, and a page of the back-stairs, without acquainting any other person with his intentions. All writs sent out for the electing of parliament he ordered to be burnt; and when he took water he threw the great seal of England into the Thames, (which was some time afterwards taken up by a fisherman in his net,) that nothing might be legally done in his absence. "If," continued Rapin, "this may not be called a real desertion of his kingdom, it will be difficult to give a name to such proceedings!" [34]

However, the king did not succeed in this attempt to escape, inasmuch as he was arrested at Feversham, and abused and insulted by the rabble; he lost a number of valuables, and gave up to the mob about between three and four hundred pounds in specie. Here he was protected by the Dutch guards of the Prince of Orange, and chose to retire to Rochester; where, in the space of about ten days from the time he had attempted his first escape, he now resolved upon trying a second. About three o'clock in a dark winter's morning he privately withdrew, taking with him only the Duke of Berwick, (his natural son,) Mr. Sheldon, and Abbadie, the page; and went on horseback to a place near the river, where he embarked in a small frigate, which landed him safely at Ambleteusé, in France; from whence he repaired to the court of Louis the Fourteenth, where with much satisfaction he rejoined his queen and infant prince. "This abdication," emphatically observes Rapin, "paved the prince's way to the throne!" [35]

Upon the departure of King James from the shores of England, an interregnum occurred of such a nature as was hitherto unknown in England. It was not caused by the death, but by the flight of the sovereign. Hence this incongruity took place, that the nation was without a king, nay, even without the representative of one, that would take the charge of the government! Yet still, strange to say, there was a king!—albeit a fugitive; who, although he had fled, and abandoned his throne, yet still pretended to retain his rights!

How short and limited is the narrow space between popular adoration and popular disgrace! To-day a king, an emperor, a demi-god—To-morrow a fugitive, an outcast from his realm, unregarded and forgotten! for ever blotted from the page of kings, his fate or banishment or the scaffold! Who can then rely upon the popular breath, wayward, fickle, and uncertain as the wave or wind? Oh! then, let the true patriot, if such is to be found upon earth, think on this; and, divested and purified from the dross of poor mortality, reflect upon all this; aye, and let him then, firmly armed in integrity, despise equally alike public censure or public praise!

From this melancholy digression upon fallen greatness on English ground, we shall reconduct the reader once more to the shores of Erin, and again return to the family of Tyrconnel in the succeeding chapter.

CHAPTER XI.

An official despatch soon followed, which communicated and confirmed to Tyrconnel the sad and dismal event of the flight of his royal master to France, which truly gave him deep and sincere affliction. This voluntary abdication of his throne upon the part of King James II. gave Tyrconnel sorrowful concern for the present, and a sad and mournful foreboding of the future! "Oh, had my royal master only stood his ground," said the duke, "and have firmly held his throne, who would, who could have dared to hurl him from it? No; even with all his political miscalculations, nevertheless his enemies could not have succeeded. The Prince of Orange would still have found it a difficult, perhaps an impossible task, to have ousted his truly royal, accomplished, and brave father-in-law, from his lawful throne; for brave and valiant was the king, and I doubt not but still brave he is. And there was a time, be it not forgotten, while he was Duke of York and Lord High Admiral of England, when nobly he fought beneath the British banner, and gloriously led on his fleet to victory!"

The Duchess of Tyrconnel, whose powerful mind and firm nerves were "albeit unused to the melting mood," yet when her Grace heard the mournful recital of the sufferings and voluntary exile of her afflicted queen; she then indeed was deeply affected, and